


First-Day Jitters

by Brate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brate/pseuds/Brate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time to go to school, but Dean doesn't want to leave Sammy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First-Day Jitters

"I'm not doing it."

John sighed. _So close_. He turned from the door, letting his hand slide off the knob.

"I'm not going in." Dean stood, arms crossed, mutinous expression on his face.

"Dean, we talked about this." John tightened his grip on Sammy's hand. "You _are_ going in."

"But I have to watch Sammy."

Sammy perked up at his name. He swung over and attached himself to his brother's leg, looking up with a big grin.

"I'll take care of him. I can do it," John said.

Dean's expression clearly showed what he thought of that: not much. John should've been offended, but he had to admit Dean had a keener hand with Sammy than he did.

"But it's _my_ job," Dean argued. "You gave him to me."

"And I'm not taking him away; I'm just saying there're other things you have to do besides watch Sammy."

"Like what?"

"Like going to school and learning."

"I'll go when Sammy goes."

Against his will, John was impressed with Dean's determination, but he couldn't let the boy call the shots. He shook his head. "I can't allow that—you'll be too far behind."

"You can teach me," Dean tried next. "You been teaching me."

"Yes, but there's only so much I can do."

John saw Dean wasn't buying it. Well, there was something he hadn't wanted to do, but it looked like he was down to his last resort. Fishing a coin from his pocket, John tossed it down the hall. "Sammy, can you go get the quarter I just dropped?"

Sammy scooted off, eager to please. Taking advantage of their momentary privacy, John leaned over Dean, voice firm but hushed. "If the state finds out that I haven't sent you to school, I could get in trouble." Dean went pale behind his freckles, and John again cursed the life he'd forced on his kids. "They could take you, or even Sammy, away from me. Is that what you want?"

Eyes moist, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip, Dean shook his head.

Sammy bounded back with his treasure, slamming into John and almost falling down.

"Thank you, son," John said, taking the coin from Sammy's outstretched hand. Returning his attention to Dean, he asked, "Ready?"

Dean nodded. Turning to the door, his expression hardened as if he were going to face a firing squad.

John slipped his hand onto Dean's shoulder, partly to show support, mostly because he wasn't sure the kid wouldn't try to make a break for it. But he needn't have worried. Apparently, John's reprimand had scared Dean enough to give up his fight.

The door opened to reveal a busy classroom. All of the children were happily playing in different areas around the room: the kitchen corner, puppet theatre, reading center, and a few more John couldn't readily identify. The Winchesters' entrance caused some of the children to pause in their play, intrigued by any interruption. Only a few remained focused on the newcomers, most of them distracted in seconds by toys or friends, and returned to their play.

John maneuvered Dean to the teacher's desk, Sammy trailing behind. Mindful of Dean's eyes on him, John made himself smile as she came around to greet them. He introduced them and tried to keep the smile in place when the teacher returned the courtesy.

"I'm Miss Hansen, nice to meet you." She stuck out a hand, greeting John perfunctorily before squatting down to address Dean. "I'm so glad you could join us, Dean."

Dean managed to grunt.

John was amazed Miss Hansen didn't bat an eye, simply made her smile warmer. But he guessed she would be used to all kinds. Hopefully, she'd be able to deal with Dean and his somewhat willful streak.

Turning to Sammy, she smiled wide and introduced herself again. Sammy looked at her a moment before moving fast and swinging his arms around her. She laughed, put out an arm to steady herself, and hugged Sammy with the other one. That more than anything seemed to help Dean relax. For one so young, Sammy was an astonishingly good judge of character.

Miss Hansen must've noticed Dean's thawing, and pounced on it like a cougar. "Dean, why don't you show your brother the cubby where you'll be keeping your things?" She pointed to the far wall, lined with square shelves; one had Dean's name on it.

Dean looked up at John, who nodded. "Go ahead."

Dean shrugged, but he took his brother's hand and said, "Come on, Sammy." He showed his cubby to Sammy who was appropriately awed with Dean's name, before he spotted a basket of books. He raced off and Dean followed, sitting down to read his brother a book. But Sammy was already up and moving to the next area. Dean kept a watchful eye on him.

Now that John was alone with the teacher, he wasn't quite sure what to say. He cleared his throat. "As soon as Dean's a little more comfortable, Sammy and I will be out of your hair."

"Don't worry about it; take as long as you need. His file said you've been home-schooling him?"

John nodded. "We have to travel a lot for my job. But since we'll be settling here for a time, I figured it'd be better to get him in school while we have the chance."

"I'm glad you decided to let Dean join us." Miss Hansen grinned as she watched Dean trail behind Sammy. "He seems to be adjusting well."

John grunted noncommittally. He stood beside her, ignoring his own discomfort, until he couldn't take it any longer. He called over to his younger son, playing fiercely with the Legos. "Time to go, Sammy."

"Okay." Sammy dropped the toys. He walked over to Dean, grabbed his hand, and pulled.

Dean resisted, trying to extricate himself from Sammy's iron grip. "No, Sammy, I have to stay here."

Confused, Sammy looked up at Dean, then over to John, who was nodding his head. That seemed to confuse him even more. "No," Sammy said, "you come…we goin'." He again tugged on Dean's hand.

Seeing this could become a problem, John moved quickly forward. "No, Sammy, _we're_ going. Dean has to stay here." Gently, he tried to loosen Sammy's grip.

Lips quivering, Sammy shook his head vigorously. "No, Dean stays wit me. He mine," he declared as only a three-year-old could.

John gave Miss Hansen a chagrinned look before picking Sammy up and walking to the door.

Sammy immediately started kicking and screaming for Dean, and John realized what a terrible mistake he'd made bringing Sammy without preparing him for the separation.

All the children were now staring at the commotion, not having yet learned to politely ignore.

John knew that Dean had been holding himself together by a thread, but Sammy's hysterics were about to break him. That couldn't happen. Children were like lions, ready to attack any weakness, real or perceived. He didn't want his son to have any more trouble than he already would.

Just as John was ready to give in and call the whole thing off, Dean moved over to John and asked—over Sammy's cries—if he could talk to Sammy alone.

John shot a glance to Miss Hansen, who was trying to divert the rest of the children and let the Winchesters have their crisis in private. She nodded and he took both boys out into the hallway.

As soon as he put Sammy down, the little one ran to Dean and threw his arms around him. Dean maneuvered Sammy down the hall, sat down, and pulled him into his lap.

John could hear the tone of their conversation, but didn't try to listen further. This was between the boys.

After a minute, Dean pushed his brother up and stood. He leaned close and whispered something in Sammy's ear. Very solemnly, Sammy put his head down, walked over to John, and took his hand.

Dean walked to the door of the classroom and managed a watery smile for his brother. "I'll see you soon, Sammy." Opening the door, he went inside.

The door closed, and Sammy gave another long sniff, wiping his eyes and nose on his shirtsleeve.

"Do you want to get some ice cream?" John felt ridiculous offering the treat this early in the morning, but he couldn't stand to see his baby looking this way.

Sammy shook his head. "Wanna go home 'n wait for Dean."

John couldn't help but think he'd failed somehow, even when he was doing what was best for his children.

He wondered if he'd ever get used to the feeling.


End file.
